


Oof

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Centaurs, M/M, PWP, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21585865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis indulges in the wildlife.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 11
Kudos: 133





	Oof

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

His hands scramble for purchase against the thick trunk of the tree, scraping along the jagged bark to add small nicks to his growing wounds, but nothing will ever match the pain in his backside. It’s laced with an almost insidious _pleasure_ , crawling just beneath his skin, permeating through to his extremities. His fingers curl around a branch, his cheek pressed tight against a well of sap. There are tears at the corner of his eyes, he thinks, but it’s hard to tell where the moisture’s coming from. One of his lenses has popped slightly out of the frame—he’ll have to repair it when he gets back to camp. _If_ he gets back to camp. In the moment, Ignis doesn’t know if he’ll ever leave.

He doesn’t _want_ to. Gladiolus rams inside him, and the pleasure-pain is so much that he’d scream if his throat weren’t already raw. Every thrust is brutal, sliding so impossibly _deep_ —Gladiolus is _enormous_ —both his cock and the shadow he casts over Ignis’ trembling body. Ignis can feel the powerful hooves braced against the ground, bracketing his own bare feet, the other two legs curled around his middle, pressed against his stomach, and the blunt, cloying human hands that rake through his hair. Gladiolus is a massive beast that has no business being _inside_ Ignis’ slender frame, but it’s been so long since Ignis had anything _good_ , anything just for himself. He had no chance of resisting the chiseled centaur that keeps their camps safe at night. He doesn’t even care that Gladiolus is clearly a _daemon_. He’s defended them from others. He still speaks with suave intelligence. And his cock’s the most glorious thing that Ignis’ has ever seen, even more glorious _inside him_. 

He hangs his head, sure he’s going to break, but Gladiolus wrenches him back up by the hair. A broken whimper escapes his abused throat. He already downed two elixirs, and he feels high with that rush— _indestructible_ —even though, without them, he’d shatter. He has more if he needs them. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to summon them. He can feel Gladiolus’ pulsing veins brushing against his inner walls, the spongy head jamming against his prostate, the incredible girth stretching him beyond all limit—

Ignis tries to cry out, but there’s nothing left. His cock bursts, completely untouched, and the way Gladiolus keeps pounding into him just milks it out. He splatters the ground, dizzy with the orgasm. He can barely breathe, barely think. Barely _see_. He loses all feeling in his limbs, then nearly chokes as a flood of hot liquid balloons inside him. It coats his insides around Gladiolus’ ever-moving cock. It wells up around his hole, slicks around his thighs, and pours a small river down his legs. He’s suddenly grateful he took all his clothes off. He would’ve sweat right through them. Gladiolus would’ve _ruined_ them. He doesn’t know how he’ll get back into them now; he feels irreparably sullied. 

Gladiolus finally putters to a halt. Ignis’ body is somehow both boneless and impossibly tense. As soon as Gladiolus pulls out, Ignis breaks. 

He topples to the ground. His knees scrape the earth, shoulder sliding down the tree. Gladiolus lets him go. Ignis huddles there, gaping open and coated with daemon seed, panting desperately for air. His glasses are completely fogged. He feels _broken_.

He _loves_ it. It’s the greatest release he could’ve asked for. Gladiolus looms over him, chuckling fondly. 

Ignis needs to get back to camp. He knows that. He needs to be there for Noctis and Prompto, guarding their sleep until the morning—he can’t trust the haven’s magic to be enough. He’ll have to boil more water over the fire and clean himself up first. Otherwise the stench alone will wake them.

Gladiolus rumbles, “That was damn good, Specs. We’ll have to do this again sometime.”

Ignis numbly nods. He’ll need to store up more elixirs first—he could never take a centaur’s dick without them. Gladiolus trots slowly around him and reaches out to stroke through his hair. Ignis hums softly, too spent to manage anything else. 

“You should climb up,” Gladiolus offers. “I don’t normally carry humans, but... I think you’ve earned at least a ride back to your haven.”

Ignis murmurs a note of gratitude but mumbles, “I don’t... think I even have the energy to... to mount you...” He’s so _exhausted_. And he’s starting to feel cold, now that Gladiolus’ warm body isn’t burning into his flesh. 

Gladiolus bends down. He slots his arm around Ignis’ back, then loops the other beneath Ignis’ legs, and suddenly, Ignis is being hiked up in the air. He manages to snatch up his discarded clothes just in time. 

Gladiolus scoops Ignis against his chest and carries him away.


End file.
